


Turnabout

by HipHopAnonymous



Series: Two Angels and a Nanny [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Blackmail, Caning, Dubious Consensual Spanking, Established Nanny Ashtoreth/Aziraphale, F/M, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Non-Sexual Spanking with unintended arousal, Other, Paddling, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:33:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26976658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HipHopAnonymous/pseuds/HipHopAnonymous
Summary: Nanny Ashtoreth is not a fan of Gabriel's method of discipline when it comes to Aziraphale. Luckily, she is presented with a golden opportunity to deliver a dose of comeuppance to the Archangel's backside.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Nanny Ashtoreth/Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Series: Two Angels and a Nanny [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2002081
Comments: 24
Kudos: 64





	Turnabout

Aziraphale was in a bratty mood, and Nanny Ashtoreth was looking forward to giving him a good, hard spanking for general cheek and naughtiness. After a bit more fight than he usually put up, she finally had him over her knee, whimpering but compliant. Licking her red lips, she hooked her fingers inside the waistband of his pants and slowly peeled them down to bare his bottom. At the sight of his naked rump, however, she gasped, horrified to find that he had _already_ been spanked. His buttocks were a mottled, rosy pink with a scattering of blue and purple bruises.

“What’s thisss?” she hissed.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you!” Aziraphale cried, turning to give her his saddest eyes and poutiest lips. Now that she thought back on it, Aziraphale may have implied as such, hinting at what had happened with the sorts of ridiculous euphemisms Heaven favored. _Reprimands_ and _penitence_ and all that. At least Hell was upfront when they planned to beat your arse. “I’m already so sore!” Aziraphale whined. “I had a … a reprimand this morning. And it’s not as if I’m allowed to heal it!”

She rolled her eyes and frowned. Aziraphale, mischievous little cherub, always seemed to be finding himself on the wrong end of Sandalphon’s paddle or Michael’s cane. “Who was it?” she asked, lips pressed together, disappointed that she may have to forego the spanking for now.

Aziraphale hesitated before mumbling, “G’brel.”

Miss Ashtoreth stiffened. It was a sore spot. Gabriel was suave, handsome, broad and tall with a bright, winning smile, always looking so obnoxiously smug in his well-tailored suits. A right bastard if she ever saw one. She wasn’t _jealous_ , of course, but she’d be happier if the Archangel would keep his hands off a certain principality, _thank you very much_. Her stomach churned with fury at the thought that someone, anyone, but especially Gabriel, had gotten to Aziraphale’s plump buttocks before her.

She had half a mind to heal his backside and then spank him all over again. At least then the marks would be from _her_ and not Gabriel. Heaven would never know, and the end result (a sore bottom) was the same either way. She was just deciding whether it would be worth Aziraphale fussing over ‘rule-breaking’ if she were to go ahead and do so when the bell on the bookshop door jingled.

“Shit!” she muttered under her breath, pushing Aziraphale off her lap and quickly helping him back into his trousers. She found her sunglasses and fumbled to put them back on, hiding her yellow serpent eyes. “I thought you were closed!”

Aziraphale’s eyes went wide, darting from side to side. “I was!”

“Who’s your guest, Aziraphale?”

It was Gabriel, breezing into the back of the shop like he owned the damn place, filling the small, cluttered space with his radiant light; an obnoxious holy shit-storm of unctuous hair and smiles.

“G-Gabriel! Just a ... a customer!” Aziraphale choked, hands flying behind his back to pick nervously at his cuticles. “What brings you back here so soon?”

Gabriel looked Nanny Ashtoreth up and down before cocking one eyebrow, presumably at the fact that she was wearing shades in the dimly lit room. She returned his questioning gaze with a cool glare, arms crossed. 

Without taking his eyes off her, Gabriel said, “Forgot to have you sign the paperwork.” He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a thin file and a pen, holding them out for Aziraphale to scurry over and take, blushing all the way. 

Aziraphale made a perfunctory glance over the documents and signed his name while Gabriel stared at Miss Ashtoreth with a bemused half-grin and narrowed eye. When Aziraphale turned to hand the completed forms back to Gabriel, he fumbled with the pen, dropping it onto the ground. At the same time, both he and Miss Ashtoreth moved to reach for it when a bright spark flashed between them accompanied by an unnaturally loud clap of thunder. Aziraphale cringed and Miss Ashtoreth cursed.

“Careful, Aziraphale,” Gabriel said slowly, as though he were speaking to a child, “Did you realize that there’s a demoness in your shop?”

“Ah, well … you see, I … um .. that is …”

“Of course he hasn’t,” Miss Ashtoreth interrupted. “I use a powerful ward to cloak myself from angels,” she lied, “but I see it didn’t work on _you_ , Archangel. Clever boy.” Of course, if Gabriel were even the littlest bit clever, he’d have realized straight away that she was one and the same as the demon Crowley, but, thankfully, it seemed that he hadn’t. As such, she laid the seduction on thick, unsure if that was the sort of thing Gabriel went in for, but absolutely certain he would, at least on some level, value the praise.

Gabriel pressed his lips together and breathed out heavily through his nose. “What business do you have with the Principality, demon?”

“Satisfying my curiosity,” she said, casually tucking a lock of red hair behind one ear. “I was passing by this morning and heard some _dreadful_ noises coming from inside this shop. It sounded like some sweet little cherub was being _beaten_.” She brought her fingers to her lips as though terribly scandalized. It was a bluff. She hadn’t been anywhere near the bookshop that morning, but she had a hunch that Gabriel had conducted the ‘reprimand’ in the shop instead of in Heaven. Though Aziraphale never noticed, the Archangel held an obvious candle for him, with his leering face and wandering hands. No doubt Gabriel assumed he could get away with more groping and ogling far away from Heaven’s prying eyes.

A humorless chuckle slipped from Gabriel’s lips. “Is that so? And what business is that of your lot? We take discipline very seriously where we come from.” He hadn’t denied spanking Aziraphale in the bookshop that morning, she noted, which she felt was as good as an admittance.

“And you think _my lot_ doesn’t?” She grinned, sharp and predatory. Suddenly, she snatched the paper out of Aziraphale’s hands where he still stood blinking owlishly at them. “Let’s see, shall we? ‘The Principality Aziraphale is sentenced to a reprimand yadda yadda yadda … received chastisement on the bare from hand and then blessed paddle etcetera etcetera … ”

Aziraphale covered his face with his hands, his ears turning red as the details of his punishment were recounted aloud. 

“Oh my!” Miss Ashtoreth’s eyebrows shot up, and she removed her sunglasses to more closely examine the paper. Gabriel sucked in a breath at her inhuman, golden eyes. “Well, look here - it says that the reprimand was conducted in the east wing disciplinary suite in Heaven. Isn’t that a _lie_ , Archangel? We both know the punishment was conducted right here in this very bookshop down on Earth.” She cocked her head to one side as though considering. “Well, _that_ sure seems a bit untoward, don’t you think? I wonder how many human souls Michael would be willing to trade for this little bit of information?”

Gabriel’s face fell, and Miss Ashtoreth could see him mentally calculating the risk of an angel versus demon brawl in the middle of a major human city. “What do you want?” he finally said with a grimace, hedging his bets.

With a Cheshire Cat grin she handed Aziraphale back the form and walked towards Gabriel, heels clicking on the floor. “Such a handsome boy you are, but so _naughty!_ Striking this poor angel so severely. What a brute!”

“He deserved it,” Gabriel said with a sneer.

“Did he now?” Miss Ashtoreth said absently, placing her hand lightly on the side of Gabriel’s muscled upper arm. He tensed, fighting the urge to jerk away, but before he could, she wrapped her long, slender fingers around his bicep and guided him towards the front of the shop. He walked stiffly, eyeing her with extreme suspicion while Aziraphale trailed behind, keeping his distance. Aziraphale kept opening his mouth as if to speak, thinking better, and then snapping it closed again. He couldn’t very well let on that he knew Miss Ashtoreth, or else they could both be in very real trouble. Best to let Gabriel assume he’d walked in on Aziraphale being bamboozled by some random demoness than the truth. Even so, they were treading on very dangerous ground. 

If Nanny Ashtoreth were wise, she’d hurry up and send Gabriel packing, secure in the knowledge that her threat of blackmail would keep him from ever mentioning there was a demoness in Aziraphale’s bookshop. However, Miss Ashtoreth was feeling more resentful than wise at the moment, the memory of Aziraphale’s well-spanked rump still fresh in her mind, and so with a powerful surge of infernal strength, she pushed Gabriel over the front counter right next to the old fashioned cash register. His palms smacked loudly as he caught himself just before faceplanting, and he whipped his head around to glare at her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he snarled.

“What is it your lot says? ‘An eye for an eye?’” she smirked. “How about a smacked bottom for a smacked bottom? Sounds fair to me. What do you think, Principality?”

Aziraphale startled. “Er …” he swallowed hard, very plainly fretting. 

However, Nanny Ashtoreth didn’t let him fret for long. Making the decision without Aziraphale’s input, she placed a firm hand on the small of Gabriel’s back and raised her hand. “Brace yourself, Archangel.”

She smacked the seat of his perfectly tailored trousers _hard_ , and he sucked in a breath, spine stiffening. She struck him again, and again, and then again all while Aziraphale watched with eyes like saucers, wincing slightly at each muffled slap. Once she was satisfied that she had Gabriel’s attention, Miss Ashtoreth snapped her fingers, instantly transporting his trousers and pants down to his ankles as he gave a startled yelp of protest.

Gabriel may have been a bastard, but Miss Ashtoreth still enjoyed the splattering of pink hand-prints she’d already left on his chiseled buttocks. She drew her hand back and gave him another spank, the sound of skin smacking against bare skin was like a gunshot, echoing loudly in the high-ceilinged space. Gabriel grunted, but she gave him no time to recover, delivering a volley of sharp smacks to his bare bottom. Left, right, up, down, quickly decorating the skin with a splattering of dark pink marks.

He was panting when she finally took a break to eliminate the soreness in her palm with a discreet miracle. The term ‘buns of steel’ came to mind. She much preferred Aziraphale’s soft, plump backside that jiggled like jelly with every smack, but she supposed she could appreciate the appeal of a corporation like Gabriel’s. His firm, pink buttocks quivered slightly as he clenched and uncleched. 

He glared over his shoulder, breath still coming fast through his slack jaw. “I know about this, demon! This is … is … _pornography!_ ”

Shockingly, Miss Ashtoreth did not laugh, a small twitch in her left eye the only tell that she was at all phased by Gabriel’s amusing accusation. “Is that what you call it when Heaven does the same in the name of discipline?”

Gabriel’s face reddened considerably, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. “Of course not!” he spat.

“I see,” she said, with an incredulous smirk. “Then I’d best make sure you aren’t enjoying this as much as you seem to be.” She raised an eyebrow at his growing erection, which was, she had to admit, rather impressive in size. Gabriel clearly toed the line when it came to pride. His flawless suits, perfectly coiffed hair, and brilliant violet eyes suggested as such. 

“Principality,” she said, and Aziraphale startled, tearing his eyes away from what was surely a mind-boggling scene; the Archangel Gabriel bent bare arsed over the table, his buttocks bright red after being soundly spanked by a demon. “Will you fetch my handbag? It’s over by the door.”

Aziraphale hesitated with uncertainty, but soon hurried over to find a small lady’s bag on the coat rack that certainly hadn’t been there moments prior. He carried it carefully back to Miss Ashtoreth, holding it out away from his body as though it might bite.

“Thank you, love,” she said, taking it from him with a wink, and he blushed. She reached into the bag to pull out an oval flat-backed wooden hairbrush. “Yes, this should do nicely. Nothing like a good, hard paddling to wilt a willy.”

Gabriel huffed, still bent over the table. He was looking back at Miss Ashtoreth, studying her with narrowed eyes. The gears in his mind were obviously spinning as he tried to decide how much of this he was going to allow before calling it off, consequences be damned. After a very long moment, he turned away and relaxed his shoulders, shifting to plant his feet more firmly on the floor.

“There’s a good lad,” Miss Ashtoreth praised, tapping his bottom with the hard back of the brush. His muscles rippled as he clenched in anticipation. Miss Ashtoreth thought idly about how a finger of ginger root up his tight arse would quell all that clenching, but she wasn’t about to push her luck _that_ far.

Without warning, the brush made contact with Gabriel’s right buttock with a mighty _thwack!_ and he shouted, low and throaty as a dark pink oval bloomed on his skin. Miss Ashtoreth delivered a matching oval to his left buttock which was met with another shout. She paddled at a rapid pace, alternating cheek to cheek, and Gabriel huffed and grunted through clenched teeth, white-knuckling the edge of the counter as he struggled to maintain composure. His bottom was turning a frightful shade of scarlet, and though it must have been absolutely burning up, he remained relatively restrained. Even when she delivered some ruthless swats to the tender backs of his thighs, he managed to stay in position without even reaching back, a hardy foot stomp the only indication that he was truly suffering. His erection had seemed to flag, however, so Miss Ashtoreth knew she was at least doing a satisfactory job.

But she could do better than that.

With a final mighty _crack!_ to his backside, Miss Ashtoreth stopped and set the brush down on the counter beside him. Gabriel instantly seemed to deflate, letting out a tremendous breath as he slumped, the rapid rise and fall of his chest gradually slowing. A few beads of sweat had broken out across his brow, and he wiped angrily at them, keeping his eyes closed.

“You took that well, Archangel,” Nanny Ashtoreth purred, and he winced as she ran her hand over his reddened buttocks. They were warm to the touch, radiating heat from being so thoroughly paddled. “You could fry an egg on these cheeks right now …” she murmured before smacking his bottom with her hand and chuckling, “And bounce a quarter off of them any day!”

Gabriel harrumphed softly, but she could tell he wasn’t _displeased_ with the comment. She reached again into her handbag, and pulled out a rattan cane, the length of which seemed to magically materialize from below the bag ( _that Mary Poppins was a clever lady, all right!?_ ) Holding the hooked end of the stick, she swished it through the air and Gabriel’s eyes snapped open, looking back with concern in his fierce purple eyes.

“Six of the best?” she asked, red lips twisting up in amusement. “Then I’ll feel you’ve sufficiently learnt your lesson.”

For a brief moment, Gabriel looked like he was going to protest, but then he sighed. “Six,” he agreed, adjusting his grip on the edge of the counter, steeling himself for what was to come.

“Very well, then.”

The cane whistled sharply through the air before connecting with Gabriel’s naked bottom. Gabriel roared, nearly losing his grip on the ledge. A thin white line appeared across the firm globes of his arse, quickly darkening to a vibrant burgundy. Miss Ashtoreth whipped the cane down again, delivering a second parallel line just below the first. This time, however, a spark of lightning seemed to shoot up Gabriel’s spine, and he leapt up, hands flying to grab his inflamed bottom.

Miss Ashtoreth clicked her tongue. “Naughty boy. You need to learn some restraint. The next time you get out of position, you’ll be getting extra.”

Gabriel’s face was pinched up in agony as he forced himself to bend back over, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

“Principality!” Miss Ashtoreth called sweetly. “Be a dear and help the Archangel stay in position, why don’t you? And close your mouth - you’ll catch flies like that!” 

Aziraphale, who’s mouth had been gaping in shock, snapped his lips shut. He blinked rapidly at Miss Ashtoreth and then furrowed his brow. “I-I’m not sure if … well, you see … um …”

“Just do it, Aziraphale,” Gabriel barked.

With a jolt, Aziraphale moved, tentatively placing his hands on top of Gabriel’s wrists.

“That’s right,” Miss Ashtoreth said, “Just hold him down like that. Be strong. If you can’t keep him from jumping up, there’ll be a few strokes of the cane for you, as well.”

Aziraphale swallowed hard and Gabriel grimaced. Miss Ashtoreth tapped the cane gently against Gabriel’s glowing red bottom before drawing it back and snapping it down again. A third tram line bloomed across his buttocks. He howled. The fourth stroke followed, and she watched Aziraphale tighten his grip on Gabriel’s wrists. He was staring in wonder at Gabriel’s face which was still screwed up in pain, flushed and sweaty. How thrilling it must be to witness such a severe comeuppance when one’s own wounds were so fresh!

Miss Ashtoreth delivered the final two strokes one after the other, hard and fast. Aziraphale had to throw himself forward over Gabriel’s arms to keep him pinned down while Gabriel shouted, growled, stomped his feet and cursed like a sailor (something Aziraphale would certainly be scolded for if their roles were reversed, but Nanny Ashtoreth let it slide. She wasn’t a total beast, after all.)

“You can stand up now,” She said, voice syrupy sweet.

Gabriel yanked his arms out of Aziraphale’s grip, who stepped back immediately with his hands raised in appeasement. Slowly, Gabriel pushed himself up, wincing at the movement along the well-whipped skin of his arse. His buttocks were a deep, shiny red from the paddling topped with six perfectly parallel welts from the cane. The flesh rippled as he squeezed his buttocks, gasping at what was surely an excruciating burn. However, Miss Ashtoreth saw that his cock was at half-mast again. _Interesting_.

With a huff, he bent to pull up his trousers, but Miss Ashtoreth stopped him, “No, no! Take some time for reflection, Archangel. Penitence need not only be felt, but fully understood.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, his jaw tweaking as he ground his teeth. He was practically trembling from the effort of not smiting her, but he held his tongue, allowing her to direct him to one corner of the bookshop to stand with his hands atop his head, his duly chastised bare bottom on display.

Miss Ashtoreth let him stand there and stew for a good ten minutes while Aziraphale paced and fidgeted, giving her anxious glances as the minutes ticked by. Gabriel didn’t move or argue, though, which Miss Ashtoreth took as a positive sign.

“Don’t you feel better? Cleansed?” she asked when Gabriel was fastening his belt again. He gave her a withering look without answering. She only smiled back, nodding towards the bulge in the front of his trousers. “If you’re interested in my services, I can give you my card.” She waggled her eyebrows.

He rolled his eyes, but his cheeks pinkened, and he whirled around and stormed out of the shop, slamming the door behind him with a tremendous crash of thunder and lightning.

Aziraphale came up beside Nanny Ashtoreth and let out a relieved breath. “Goodness. That sure was something. I would have thought he’d be … I don’t know ... more stoic. He always scolds me for making a fuss.”

Miss Ashtoreth snorted and gave him a toothy grin. “Nobody can stay stoic on the receiving end of one of Nanny’s spankings.”

Aziraphale flushed. “Too true. Do you think he’s going to tell?”

“I think he’s going to rub one out. Did you notice how hard he was? I suppose he enjoyed his _pornography_ , after all.”

They both erupted into a fit of giggles.

“No, I don't think he's going to tell. Spanked by a demon? He'd never live it down." Miss Ashtoreth picked up the hairbrush from the counter and rounded on Aziraphale. He took a wary step backwards as she smacked the business end of the brush lightly against her palm. "Now, back to you, naughty Principality. I’d say it’s more than safe for me to heal that bottom of yours … and then warm it right back up _my_ way!”

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/HipHopAnonymou9)  
> 
> 
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